A capital S Something
by punk.wrxtr
Summary: First person, Hazel's POV. Hazel Grace was very sceptical when it came to the afterlife, but now her beloved Augustus Waters is dead and she's lying in a hospital bed on her way out too, it's her turn to believe in Something. A capital S Something. Character Death (Hazel). One-Shot.


**A capital S Something. **

**First person, Hazel's POV. Hazel Grace was very sceptical when it came to the afterlife, but now her beloved Augustus Waters is dead and she's lying in a hospital bed on her way out too, it's her turn to believe in Something. A capital S Something. **

**I don't own the Fault in Our Stars, all rights go to John Green. Written for my awesome friend Caitlin, hope she (as well as other readers) likes it :3 and that I haven't screwed the plotline up completely. **

**A/N – I've guessed Hazel's birth year, 'scuse me if I got my maths wrong. **

There are many side effects of dying, but pain isn't one of them. Pain is a side effect of living – of life running out.  
It started at three-fourteen am. One minute, I was asleep; BiPaP forcing my breaths in and out, in and out. It continued to force air through my lungs as I screamed, as my parents ran in to get me. As a pain darker than anything I'd felt in years rocketed through my head; spreading down my chest to my lungs. My faithful BiPaP stopping for no one, even as my mum lifted me from my bed and into the car, stroking my hair and whispering reassurances (that were more for her than anyone else) as my dad drove to the hospital.

I wanted to control my breaths, but cancer does that to a person. Takes away their basic rights. But the BiPaP still forced my breaths when we arrived at the hospital.

Maybe it was cold. Maybe it was dark. I can't remember, it was all so fuzzy. Not blurry, I could probably see – if my eyes hadn't been scrunched up in pain as I focused on keeping still and trying not to explode. But whenever I peaked, everything was slightly out of focus – like a drawing with the edges slightly smudged around the edges.  
Noises were dull, maybe there was the odd ambulance siren or crying child, but I'd done this before. I'd been A&amp;E's centre of attention too many times, this was almost routine. A really shitty routine. Nature's twisted like that.

It was a little messed up how, when they were forcing cannula into a vein in my hand, or when I was being put in a portable bed in the ICU, all I could think was – _is this how they treated Augustus, when he was dying?_  
I'd been in this position before. My parents hoping that it was simply a small problem that another, higher dose of phalanxifor could fix in a few weeks. Then a doctor explaining how the phalanxifor – a _temporary solution – _had run its course for me. How I'd been lucky to have survived this long, and how my lungs were filling up with fluid; that I'll be gone by the morning.  
But that was pre-miracle, when we didn't know about phalanxifor. Now that idea had been used up, and I was on my way out for real.

Morphine was being pumped through my system through the cannula, as well as an IV. The pain had barely been dulled, but I tried to hide that – to hide it for my tearful mother and broken father who clung onto each other yet only lightly touched my hand, as if I were a fragile china doll about to break at any second.  
"We love you," my mother kept repeating. "We love you so much Hazel, and no matter what I said last time I will always and forever be your mother."

I wanted to tell her I knew, and that I loved her and dad too, so very much. But I couldn't breathe on my own, and even the hospital's BiPaP breathing hurt – so talking was out of the question. My lungs were filling with fluid, I was a girl drowning on land. All I could do is squeeze their hands weakly, but they clung onto the squeeze as if it were a lifeline – as if they were dying, not me.

"Hazel, baby-" my father paused to sniff and wipe a tear from his cheek. He always cried the most, but tonight it was equal pain and tears all round. "Hazel, maybe you should get some sleep, huh? Save your energy." I knew what he was doing. He was hoping that maybe rest would make me last until morning, but that would only prolong everyone's suffering – if I didn't pass away in my sleep.

Shaking my head, a silent tear rolled down my cheek. Glancing at the clock, it had been two hours – quarter past five in the morning – but it felt like an eternity. Last night when I fell asleep reading the latest Max Mayhem (It was no _Imperial Affliction, _but I'd vowed to finish the series for Augustus) – when mother watched ANTM and dad pretended like he didn't enjoy the show – none of us knew that I'd die tonight. That was just the unpredictability of having cancer.

I don't know how I expected to die, whether everything would just cut off or if I'd have to suffer straight away first. All I knew was that I'd be dying that night, and I wondered whether my atheism meant that a capital S Something was out of the question for me. I hoped Augustus had made it to whatever that Something was. Maybe I'd get to join him, or not. I'd find out soon enough.

I, Hazel Grace Lancaster, was born on September 29th 1998 and died at 6:03am on the 30th March 2014. That's all I'd be now – a birthdate and a death date on a gravestone.  
It wasn't like in the movies, where noises blur and the lights fade. There's no one calling for a doctor or screaming '_come on, stay with us!' _  
Instead, everything stayed the same. My parents tearful, looking down at me; their ghost of a daughter. Sympathy was a side effect of dying, but for a healthy, non-cancerous couple – my parents' sobs were full of empathy. It was, poetically enough, like falling asleep. My eyelids grew heavy – my tight lungs became numb – and my weak grasp loosened till I was limp.

Then there was black.

Something, with a capital S, did exist. Probably.

There was a light, but not blinding. For all I knew, I was comatose. This was just a hospital light. Or I was dead. I didn't really like the sound of either.

Clichés are annoying, but they are too often true. My life did, literally, flash before my eyes. _My first trip to the hospital. My diagnosis, stage four Thyroid cancer – I was given my first oxygen tank at thirteen. There was meeting Kaitlyn in high school. First support group meeting. Befriending Isaac. Dr Maria. The hospital scare pre-miracle, then the introduction of phalanxifor. Being pulled out of school. Reading _an Imperial Affliction _for the first time. Then re-reading it so much the spine broke and I needed a new copy.  
_Everything was bland. Dark. Like a crappy movie.  
Then Augustus came into my life.  
_Meeting Augustus Waters. Watching V for Vendetta on his couch and reading Max Mayhem. Having another hospital scare and learning that Augustus waited for me in the waiting room, even though he'd met me only once or twice before. Helping Isaac get over Monica by breaking trophies in Augustus' room. Isaac losing his eyesight. Augustus preparing us a Dutch picnic and taking me to Funky Bones. Going to Amsterdam, watching 300 on the airplane. Dinner of white asparagus at Oranjee, drinking champagne and losing my virginity in mismatched underwear. Meeting Peter Van Houten, finding out he's a total dick. Making out with Augustus in the Anne Frank house.  
_Then it got dark.  
_Finding out about the return of Augustus' __Osteosarcoma. Augustus' condition deteriorating. Egging Monica's car. Augustus trying to drive to a gas station to get a packet of cigarettes, but the trip goes drastically wrong. Augustus' many, many trips to the hospital. The Eulogy. Augustus' death. His funeral, and Peter Van Houten crashing it at Augustus' own request. Playing video games with Issac. Reading Augustus' letter to Van Houten, her last memory of him.  
_Then my life went back to before. Watching ANTM and playing video games with Isaac and going to support meetings. Nothing was the same without Augustus, everything went back to being bland.

It was that way for a year until this point. Until there was light from an unknown source as I wandered in this am-I-dead-or-dying space.  
Even in death I didn't know if I believed in Something.

But there was a thing in the distance, barely noticeable through the light. A thing that was tall and well-built with mahogany brown hair and watery blue eyes; an unlit cigarette hanging from its – _his – _mouth.  
That was my Something with a capital S. Whether I was dead or alive or amidst both, Augustus was my something.

And now I was looking forward to our permanent infinity amongst the Something.

**That ending is so bad. I've tried to keep it to please all religions, so for those who believe in reincarnation or are agnostics/atheists, I've kept it so Hazel may or may not be dead (but definitely on her way out) – and for Christians and other religions that believe in life after death, I've depicted the afterlife too. :) **

**Please review, no hate! PM me (or review this) if you have a prompt for either this or another fandom. **

**-Catnipisnotonfire12**


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